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Lines	By : CGH Category: S through Z > Transformers (Movie Only) > Transformers (Movie Only) Views: 3824 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. I am not making money off writing this.

Chapter List
- 1-Lines
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16 (FINALE)
- 4
- 5
- 6
Getting Ratchet and Ironhide to use their human-sized holograms turned out to be simpler than Mikaela previously thought. All it took was a basketball hoop and a ball they found lying on the road. They nailed the hoop to the side of the warehouse where the parking lot was the widest. Mikaela discovered they'd done this when the noise of them playing woke her up at six o'clock on a Friday morning.

The ball smashed into something metal. Ironhide growled, "Ugh!"

"I told you, I was open!" Ratchet snapped.

Optimus cut in, "I'm waiting."

"Let's get him!" Ironhide's voice passed the sleeper. The backboard rattled. Metallic footsteps and a bouncing ball scrambled across the gravel.

So much for sleep.

Mikaela staggered into Optimus' cab and eased his passenger side door open. There they were--all three of them gathered near the basketball rim. Their court was set up on the side of the warehouse completely hidden from the road, so nobody had even a chance of seeing them.

Optimus had the ball. He crouched low just like a professional player, dribbling with his left hand while Ratchet and Ironhide approached from each side. He was so intent on them that Mikaela jogged over, snatched the ball right out from under him and enjoyed the tinkling swish of the metal net.

"Oh, that's a foul," Ironhide folded his arms. "Outside interference."

Optimus just laughed. He picked the ball up and playfully bounced it off Ironhide's head, causing the weapons specialist to sway on his feet. "It's just a game. Besides," he caught the ball again and spun it on his index finger. One optic clicked shut in a wink, "now we have four players."

Ratchet balked. "Should Mikaela be playing in her condition?"

"I'll be fine," Mikaela rolled her eyes, "Exercise is actually good for me and the baby. So..." She knocked the ball from Optimus hands and started dribbling, her lips curling off her teeth in a grin, "C'mon, Optimus, reset the score and let's show 'em how it's done."

Ratchet rushed over to block Optimus while Ironhide leapt between Mikaela and the basket. All three of them had a huge size advantage over her--but Mikaela was skilled in this game. She shifted so her back faced Ironhide and dribbled slowly, peeking over her shoulder. Optimus edged towards the basket with Ratchet right alongside him.

Mikaela faked a shot and passed to Optimus, who caught the ball over Ratchet's head. He spun around the medic for an easy lay-up. "He shoots, he scores...what a star!"

Ironhide snatched the ball when it fell and dashed down the gravel alley. They were playing half court. Optimus tried to block Ironhide, but he flung the ball across the court to Ratchet. The yellow medic deftly avoided Mikaela. She had almost grabbed the ball from him when he flipped it back to Ironhide--who promptly ducked past Optimus and slammed it into the hoop. His dunk made a bang that echoed off the warehouse wall.

"Yes! Who's the mech?" he snarled, lifting both arms over his head. Ratchet just kind of looked on in embarrassed amusement before shaking his head.

Mikaela laughed and formed a letter T with her hands. "Okay now, time out guys. I need to eat breakfast. I'm starved. I'll join you again when I'm done."

"I'll come with you." Optimus imitated the time-out gesture so he wouldn't get clobbered by the ball. The other two waited for him to clear the 'court' before resuming a one-on-one game. "I think these two can handle each other for a few minutes. What do you feel like eating this morning?"

Optimus had been practicing around the stove a lot lately. He was no Iron Chef--a lot of food ended up burned before he figured it out--but once he did he was so perfectly precise that Mikaela forgave the grease fires she had to put out in the past.

"Um...cheese omelet?"

"Coming right up."

Mikaela watched him grab the necessary ingredients. She went to the bathroom to freshen up and empty her bladder. Upon emerging, she saw him setting the pan on the burner. When did seeing an alien robot cook start to feel normal?

"I apologize if we woke you," he said.

"Oh," she waved a hand dismissively, "No big deal. I slept pretty good. Would've liked to sleep longer...but then I'd end up staggering around at noon. I can't keep doing that when I start working."

Optimus held an egg between his thumb and middle finger. Using his index finger, he tapped it open like one of those plastic Easter eggs and its contents splattered in the pan with a sizzle. "Understandable."

The sudden smell made Mikaela's mouth water. Optimus used his hands instead of forks and spatulas. This used to gross her out until he informed her the metal on his hands had a microbe-resistant finish. Even as a hologram his hands were as clean as the tools in an operating room. All of their hands were treated that way--especially mechs like Ratchet, it helped when it was necessary to perform emergency repairs on a dirty battlefield.

Antibacterial...but not grease resistant. Mikaela attacked his fingers with a paper towel before he spread cooking muck all over the stove controls. Then she sat down to enjoy her hearty breakfast.

"Geez, where are you getting the instructions for all of this?"

"Internet searching." Optimus shot her an amused look. "Preparing food seems so simple. Why do so many people make errors that ruin the meal?"

She answered with her mouth full, "Our brains aren't computers and not every oven works the same way."

"Hm."

The rest of her breakfast was consumed without another word. Silences around Optimus were rarely awkward--especially since the living creature in her uterus often found entertaining ways to tickle her innards. It seriously felt like a fish swishing and tapping against a part of herself she couldn't reach to scratch.

Optimus looked over when Mikaela giggled. She pointed to her stomach. He splayed his hand on her lower abdomen and his eyes flickered in amusement.

"Maybe she likes my cooking," he remarked.

"Maybe she likes eggs--ack!" she gasped as another poke nearly doubled her over in laughter, "She's moving right where I'm ticklish!"

Optimus' laugh was pure delight. "Speaking of babies...I did encounter an interesting website about natural childbirth. Giving Birth Naturally dot com. It seemed to have information fitting your birth preferences."

Mikaela rolled a piece of egg with her fork. It was sweet how he showed so much interest in her and the baby. "Oh?"

"Yes...and I also ran across several videos that show how you and your partner can manage labor together. They're fascinating. I've emailed you the links." He smiled, "It is your body and your daughter, so I leave everything up to you. These are just options I thought you'd like to explore."

Her heart did a little dance behind her ribs. "Thanks, Optimus. I'll check it out in a bit." She swallowed, "This is good food."

Optimus did something with his optics that looked suspiciously like waggling eyebrows and his tone was just as teasing, "Isn't it customary to kiss the cook?"

Snickering, she wiped the grease off her lips and pecked him on the mouth without thinking anything strange about it. It wasn't until she resumed eating that Sam's words haunted her. He'd said it was sick. How could a relationship with someone who made her feel wanted and perfect be seen as disgusting? A little odd, maybe...but gross?

"I don't know what I'm going to do about Sam," she sighed. "I want to keep him updated on the baby...but I dunno if he's even interested."

"I'm afraid I can't speak for him," Optimus said. He grabbed the back of a cheap office chair, spun it around so its backing faced her and sat down with his long legs draped off either side. Kitchen sets were too expensive, so Mikaela's dining room was a wooden crate surrounded by an office chair that creaked, a plastic patio chair with a crack on the backing, the dented metal folding chair she was currently sitting on and a low, off-balance stool. Like her life, the pieces were imperfect and didn't quite match.

Besides, seeing Optimus spread out backwards on the office chair with the armor above his knees just sort of sticking up in the air made her giggle inwardly. He looked so relaxed and casual.

"I know. I guess I'm just trying my hardest not to think of him as a jerk. The sex was pretty awkward, too." Mikaela finished off the last of the omelet and felt a little sad that such yummy, fluffy eggs and gooey cheese had to run out. "Optimus, I used to use guys."

He cocked his head.

"It used to be a game. Guys are ruled by hormones a lot of the time at this age and it's easy to make them do what you want if you dangle sex in their faces. It's a biology thing. I guess..." She examined the words about to pass her lips and it opened something cold in the middle of her chest, "...I only loved myself when I had guys wagging their tongues at me. I thought I was worth something to them at least. God, do I sound stupid?"

Optimus leaned forward and folded his hands on the backing of his chair. "You never sound stupid to me."

She sighed, sitting back in her seat.

"Perhaps your behavior is due to a lack of stability in life," he went on. "It sounds to me as if you feared losing control of a relationship, so you threw it away. It's easier to...I believe your term is 'dump'...than to be dumped."

Optimus just hit a target no one else in her life had ever touched on before. She immediately felt guilty and dirty. It wasn't easy to shrug off the whispers of "slut" and "whore" in the school halls. She always feared becoming unattractive and already she'd done so in Sam's eyes. Her body was changing rapidly because of the pregnancy--what if she blew up like a big, swollen balloon full of pimples and stretch marks?

"I'm...I'm always afraid I'll hurt you like I hurt Sam." Mikaela whispered. The back of her throat ached. She blamed it on hormones because it just wasn't like her to cry so easily. "And I'm afraid I'll be an idiot and hurt the baby when she's older. I don't want to screw this up. I don't want her to go through what I did."

Optimus' chair creaked as he reached across the table to clasp her wrist in his cool, gentle hand. Mikaela tilted her palm up and their fingers interlocked in a mix of flesh and metal. He leaned forward until his penetrating blue eyes were level with hers. "Do you remember what I said about perfect love?"

"Mmhmm."

"Excluding the relationship you had with Sam, have you desired other males since our first encounter?"

"N-no..." Her own reply surprised her. "Everything feels different with you. I can't put a finger on it other than it's a rush I don't get anywhere else."

"That feeling is your answer." His face softened in a smile. "You've found what you were searching for."

Reality stung when it should have comforted.

"Sam said it was gross. I told him what we did. I told him everything--and he said it was gross."

Optimus' smile melted into a frown. "So he didn't take it well."

"No. He probably won't want to touch me again, either." Mikaela wiped her free hand through her hair. "I like him. He's a nice guy, but I just can't deal with him if he's going to run off on me and the baby. I'm worried he'll suddenly change his mind. Frankly, I don't want to marry him for the baby's sake anymore. I did before, but now I don't think I'll say yes if he tries to ask. I'm...I'm sick of lying to myself. I love you."

She felt his fingers tighten slightly. He brought his other hand up to rest across her knuckles. His optics shimmered like crystals and tilted slowly in a smile that did not quite reach his mouth.

"I love you, too," he replied softly.

Saying it was so hard for her. The three most healing words in the universe...and she struggled to say them. But once she did he responded so easily--almost as if he'd been waiting for her to say it first.

She glanced down at their hands, studying how they were clasped between the lines created by a plank in the crate.

"When Megatron and I separated...I...had flings, as you call them. Never direct intercourse--more like how we behaved the day I performed that most graceful tumble..." Amusement flickered on his face only to fade behind his words, "Sexual relations without love don't feel the same. The emotional connection makes every sensation meaningful." Optimus held her gaze, his expression serious. "A fling is caring only for your own pleasure. Making love is tending to your partner. It is looking into their eyes and seeing how much they love you as you move together. It is listening to each other and learning exactly what sends you and your partner to heights of rapture. Casual relations? There is no connection or communication. You might as well have a wall between you and the other person. I have done both in my life and I can speak from experience--casual interfacing does nothing for me. I need passion. I need to care."

Mikaela heard her own story in every word he spoke. He just nailed exactly what she'd been missing most of her life. Out of all the people she'd had relations with, he was the most passionate. If she was asked to name whoever satisfied her the most out of all the boys she'd slept with, he'd win by light years.

"What I've learned is that no love is ever satisfying until you learn to love yourself," he went on.

"How do I do that?"

Optimus tilted his head and sagely wisdom shone in his calm face. He said, "See all your flaws, all your triumphs, achievements you are proud of and errors you're ashamed of, and learn how to walk directly down the center of both while looking straight ahead. Don't focus on one or the other, merely walk down the middle while acknowledging and accepting both sides."

"Sounds easy if you have a long life to realize this." Mikaela half smiled, taking his words and filing them away to think about more deeply at a later time. "Some people never do learn."

His optics blinked slowly and he nodded his head. The air grew silent between them. A comfortable pause without awkwardness.

Then Mikaela decided she'd ask something she never asked anyone. "What is it about me that turns you on? Do I do something that flips a switch or...what? I'm curious."

He chuckled, a gentle, pleasant sound that was never fake. "Honestly?"

"Yup. Lay it on me."

Optimus turned his head a moment, squinted and she saw his mouth still tilted up in a robotic grin. Then he faced her and said, "You have this...thing...you do with your eyes. Where I come from, a lot of our eroticism is based around the optics. No matter how much a mech changes his appearance outwardly, his optics remain exactly the same. And you have this attractive manner in which you veil your eyes with your eyelashes. I don't know if you're aware when you're doing it. Your eyelashes are so dark and your irises are such a brilliant blue...the contrast makes your eyes become extremely intense. My visual receptors often interpret them as glowing like a pair of optics. It's beautiful and awes me whenever I see you do it."

Ah, the classic bedroom eyes. She got her eyelashes from her dad and he used to look at her mom that way. It must've gotten stuck somewhere in her unconscious mind and only surfaced when she was old enough to understand the meaning of that look.

"So..." Mikaela turned her head slightly, blinked slowly and peeked through her eyelashes at him, "this look?"

"Mm, yes, that's it," he squeezed her hand and she felt his metal fingers briefly grow warmer. "How do I excite you?"

Her cheeks flushed. They were talking about their relationship. Talk as she knew it used to be about nothing--that noisy interlude between bouts of making out and beyond. With Optimus it was different. If she let herself go, they'd talk for hours. Sometimes they bantered about silly subjects and sometimes they discussed serious matters. One could rant without interruption. One was always listening. They could both be silent and fill it with each others' presence instead of meaningless chatter.

The difference astounded Mikaela. Why did she keep walking away from this? Why did she keep leaving someone who let her be herself?

Optimus' question still hung in the air. She blushed again and squeaked out, "Your voice. Especially when you drop down really deep...it drives me crazy when you do that. Around here, voices like yours are...oh...how would you say it? Mm. Voices like yours are the height of masculinity. You talk and people listen."

"Oh..." He lowered his voice to its deepest register, "Is this the tone you speak of?"

Mikaela giggled at the playful look in his eyes. "Yup. God help me...you have the kind of voice that would drive any woman on this planet up the wall. All you have to do is say sexy things and...um...yeah..."

"Sexy things?"

"Um--" she chewed her bottom lip, "Depends on the person. Some like dirty talk, you know, stuff like 'I'll fuck you senseless'...though I was never into that."

Optimus' eyes flickered, "I never enjoyed that kind of talk either, though I do know Ratchet loves it when Ironhide does."

"Whatever floats their boat."

"Indeed."

"What's the most romantic movie line you've ever heard since you landed here?" Mikaela found herself rubbing his fingertips. It was strange to see that although his hands had scratches on them, they weren't scarred beyond recognition. They felt just as smooth as any other stainless steel surface she'd touched in her lifetime...the exception being this stainless steel could feel her. "I'm sure whatever it is will be exactly the kind of stuff I like to hear."

He closed his eyes, smiling, probably running through a long list. Then, all at once, he leaned over the table until their faces were inches apart, looked deeply into her eyes and quoted Jerry Maguire against her lips: "You complete me."

Mikaela's innards melted into mush. She leaned her forehead against his. At such close proximity his optics were a glowing blue blur.

"Nice retinas," he said.

"Huh?"

He laughed and moved back to sit in his seat.

Mikaela's brain caught up and she realized just how far into her eyes he'd been able to see. The joke finally hit her and she laughed with him. "Your turn again."

"All right." Optimus stood up to flip his chair the right way around. He sat back down, brought his left ankle across his right knee and picked up the wadded paper towels Mikaela used to wipe grease off his hands earlier. She watched in amazement as he started casually juggling them. He was good at it! "Your personality is attractive to me. Our pasts shape us. How we talk, how we react to the world, the reasons for which we laugh and cry. It seems we were molded by similar twists of fate." He reversed the direction in which he juggled the paper towel wads. "You understand hardship. You have made sacrifices those around you don't fully appreciate. It is a background I completely understand because I've been there, done that and there wasn't even a T-shirt my size."

Mikaela groaned at the last line. She watched him catch the wadded paper towels and chuck them over her head. All three landed in the trash can behind her.

He reached across the table, curled a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to meet his. "You are forged like a diamond, Mikaela. Diamonds require specific conditions--high temperatures, extreme pressure and incredible depths. Yet, despite that harsh environment, once found..." He tipped his head slightly, "...they sparkle."

"My dad used to have a similar analogy." It was easier to talk than sit there blushing over what he was saying to her. "Samurai swords. They're made by a smith who literally folds and layers the blade several times rather than banging one piece until it looks like a pointy thing. It's heated, cooled, shaped and heated again. Everything that smith does has an affect on how the blade will look when it's finished. But in the end, the result is something worth..." she was falling into his eyes, and had to take a breath to control the butterflies in her stomach, "...admiring."

His eyes softened and he gently reclaimed her hand in both of his. She felt his thumb tracing out the glyphs representing their names on her palm. His alien, yet familiar touch burned every nerve ending in her skin. Their conversation left her mentally, physically and emotionally on fire, and his thumb, touching her so simply, spread the flames. She wanted him in so many ways that she couldn't name them all. He focused onto her and his optics, blue like pilot lights, pinned her in a hot, predatory stare. She watched that animal he kept controlled emerging from its cage and pacing about behind his gaze. It was only a matter of time before it devoured her, and it was only a matter of time before she let it happen.

"I can feel the blood roaring in your veins." Optimus rumbled. "Your heart is pounding."

"I-I know..."

Again, it was silent. Mikaela could hear every breath she sucked in through her nose. Their eyes were locked. They weren't moving, yet to her she felt as if they were already making love on the floor, and her body reacted so suddenly that she shivered when he moved his thumb along the crease where her wrist joined her palm.

Everything in the universe funneled down to that single point of contact. Mikaela braced herself for the inevitable explosion.

"Mikaela," he whispered in the deep tone that stirred her senses with visions of storms and power and dark, misty places.

"Yes?" she peered at him through her eyelashes and coyly brushed her hair back. "Need something?"

His hands trembled around hers...

The table went from useful furniture to an annoying obstacle, because all of a sudden it was swept aside and everything on top spilled onto the floor. Mikaela only had time to gasp before Optimus literally pounced on her. The chair in which she sat tipped backwards, flinging her down on a pile of soft, dusty tarps. She wore just a thin, light pink tank top and filmy white pajama pants, both worn too thin to do anything besides cover her unmentionables. Through them she felt every angle, vibration and coil of his machine body.

Optimus leaned his face down to her neck and brushed his metal lips over her throbbing pulse.

"Just this once, I wish I had a sense of taste..." He trailed off and nuzzled her neck. "Just...this...once."

And then he nipped her with the edges of his mouth. She felt the little pinches move from her earlobe to her shoulder and it sent tingles down her arms. His hands were--oh, God--they were in her hair, heedless of the tangles she hadn't brushed out yet. She felt them slide down over her breasts, hook under her shirt and begin lifting slowly upwards. It occurred to Mikaela, dimly, that he meant to remove this obstacle and she'd better cooperate before he ripped the fabric. Sitting up an inch, she let him pull her tank top over her head.

Optimus had never seen her topless before. Mikaela felt very self conscious of the obvious pregnancy bulge turning her toned, flat navel into a small hill. He just smiled at it. His eyes were a caress exploring her. He didn't gawk...he admired. She saw his smile grow. He reached for the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She grasped his wrists and met his gaze.

"This might get messy."

He raised a brow. "Good thing Bounty exists then, isn't it?"

"Mm." Mikaela let him take her bottoms off. She wasn't wearing any underwear, and the effect he'd had on her was painfully obvious.

"That is normal, correct?"

"Oh, yeah."

A cool breeze came in from the warehouse doors and Mikaela suddenly realized she was completely nude in Optimus' presence.

Once more, his optics caressed her, lingering momentarily on the dark curls between her legs. She didn't shave herself, but she did keep the hair clipped short. He could see everything.

"I will never understand why advertisers want to take what is already beautiful and change it."

Mikaela blushed again. Her body wasn't perfect, but for him it didn't have to be. How was it that he said such simple things that made her feel better about herself?

Optimus' face retreated from her throat. His hand reached out.

Mikaela felt him touch her there, and reality tunneled around that glistening piece of steel. His fingers did things that made her body clench in need. He paused to examine the fluids clinging to his fingertip in shiny strings, smiled and looked over.

"You are very wet creatures."

Mikaela laughed, shoving the fallen chair aside. "Optimus?"

"Yes, Mikaela?"

"Get down here."

He was on top of her in a heartbeat. Joints hissed and air from his intake system blew a hot breath across her bare body. She felt him guide her hands under his chest plates. "Feel the levers?"

The levers he spoke of were smooth and warm--probably locking mechanisms for his doors in truck mode.

"Yeah..."

"Pull them."

When she did, he caught his chest plates and set them aside. She'd taken her clothes off for him. He returned the favor.

Bare engine components and his Spark glistened before her in shimmers of silver and blue white. Most of his major functional internals were behind the second, silvery panels residing on either side of his Spark chamber. But minor parts--piping, bolts, wires and his intake vents--glittered in plain sight. They were surprisingly clean, but naturally they would be without the usual emissions given off by everyday diesel engines. Her eyes moved over the intricacies of his shoulder joints and she marveled at his ability to turn from that into an ordinary truck.

Optimus looked strangely small and out of proportion without his chest pieces, but Mikaela knew it was because she'd never seen him take them off before. According to Ratchet, all of his plating could come off, leaving just his metal framework. Her eyes went to a network of fiber optic cables sprouting from his throat. They were so fine she only saw them because the light hit him just so. The coloring struck her as familiar.

Ah. Neural lines. They act like nerves.

She laid her hands flat on his internal plating where the clear wires were spread out like a web. Optimus' eyes absolutely fluttered--then he shivered as if her touch created sensation in his whole body. He moaned and the vibrations of his voice tickled her palms. She raked her nails across his chest, smiling at how his moan became a sharp, hoarse cry. Wanting to see that again, she repeated the action.

"Keep that up..." Optimus seized her hands. His fingers trembled. "...and I won't be in any condition to make love to you properly."

Make love, he'd said. Make love...not have sex, not fuck, not roll around...he said make love.

That meant no fumbling through clothes or going after each other like rabid animals. There were no secrets, regrets or barriers. Their bodies and emotions were completely out in the open. This moment was forever.

Mikaela slipped her arms around Optimus' neck. His pupils dilated and darkened, making his eyes glimmer like azure rings. She knew they only saw her, and for some reason that made a small space in the back of her throat ache like a healing wound.

His radio came on. She mumbled at him to turn it up and he did. It was Michael Crawford and Barbara Dickson singing a sensual duet. The music was a slow fire rolling over and through her in colorful waves.

"...come bring me your softness.

Comfort me through all this madness.

Woman, don't you know, with you I'm born again..."

Optimus leaned towards her ear and rumbled over the music, "I love you."

The words alone made Mikaela moan against his audio sensor. She gasped, "Love you too."

"...come give me your sweetness.

Now there's you, there is no weakness.

Lying safe within your arms, I'm born again..."

His hands, those wonderful, cool, stainless steel hands, were all over her. Breasts, stomach, thighs, shoulders...he left no part of her untouched. Cold fire trailed his fingertips and, upon meeting his eyes, she saw how touching her skin excited him.

Mikaela paused to laugh at herself mentally. Why was she so afraid to touch him back? Here he was, several thousand times stronger than her, and she harbored fears that she'd somehow break something. Optimus appeared to sense this--he chuckled and rubbed his lips against her ear.

"You won't hurt me," he whispered, nipping at her earlobe, and she realized she really liked having his voice right there.

Mikaela flung caution to the wind and slipped her fingers between the plates on his broad back. His fuel tanks and wheel wells were warm and sensitive against her palms. He had a lot of hinges, wires and joints that flexed beneath her touch. The joints making up his shoulders flowed like familiarity under her palms. She felt the cool smoothness of a hydraulic hose and followed it to the shock-absorber spring of his mechanical bicep. It amazed her how his strength depended on that hose and a few wires--cut just one and his arm would be rendered useless.

Optimus seemed equally fascinated by the bone structure of her pelvis. His fingertips traced her tailbone, her hips and glided towards her side. She giggled at his fingers gently tickling over her ribs. Her giggle became a squeak when his hand lightly squeezed her backside and made its way up her spine. She raked her nails down his chest. Optimus did the same thing to her back. Not too hard...but enough that she knew he was leaving marks all over her shoulder blades. Fantastic pleasure-pain shot across her skin. She tried barely grazing him at all and he mirrored every motion on her back, a silent message telling her exactly how it felt to him. They were feeling, breathing, needing and loving as a single being.

"...I was half, not whole,

in step with none.

Reaching through this world,

in need of one..."

"Mikaela," Optimus whispered in her ear and--oh--she wanted to melt in the heat of his smoldering gaze. He laid his palm on her tailbone, preparing to line their bodies up.

"Hm?" she let him because she trusted him. For a heartbeat she worried he'd be cold when he pressed against her...but he felt just as warm as her own skin. Feeling his body against her nakedness sent her heart racing. The moment she wrapped around him, his face clenched. She knew the blood roaring through her veins was already driving him crazy.

He started his engines and the vibrations tickled the apex of her thighs. Then he bent over her, bringing his Spark in contact with her heartbeat, and a soft cry escaped his vocal processor.

"Mikaela," Optimus moaned again, interlocking their fingers, "I want you. To have, to hold, for better and for worse, whatever happens--" and she squeezed his hands when his voice dropped to that dark octave she loved, "--I will cherish you."

Tears welled in Mikaela's eyes. Oh, God, of all the moments he could say what she dreamed of hearing...it didn't need to happen while she was buried in hot, itchy white chiffon and surrounded by people who had better things to do because she knew, coming from him, in this moment of almost holy consummation, he meant it. She pressed her cheek against his and whispered the vows back to him--and told herself deep down that she'd honor them. Her heart was more open than she ever thought imaginable and he flowed into her as a soft, comforting presence. He filled her with aching heat and belonging...the deflagration built higher and higher and she didn't know whether her emotions or his motor were driving her towards bliss.

Optimus teetered on the edge with her when she leaned up and pressed her lips against his parted mouth plates, sealing their vows in a kiss. That was all it took and they tumbled into simultaneous ecstasy. Optimus groaned and grabbed the tarp, his fingers shredding it, and she wailed against his open mouth while the song playing on his radio reached its climax right along with them.

Everything they went through crashed over her mind. Between each heartbeat, she experienced a new surge. Emotions, moments, the past, the present, the future not yet written...Mikaela felt it all as if existing in each vision. Hopes, dreams and fears that weren't her own flickered by in a rush of noise and she knew it was him reaching deep into her. She glimpsed red eyes and a crimson wall--then it flashed to bright lights and the pain of gasping for air--she was remembering two different births.

"Mikaela..." Optimus moaned in her ear and it was music.

Long ago, when she nearly drowned, she heard someone murmuring her name in the light. The same whisper fluttered over her mind like flashes of sun on agitated water and she knew--because the light was love--that she was holding its source.

Then it all slipped away like a dream.

Optimus' orgasm lasted a few seconds longer than hers. She rubbed his neck until his moans tapered away to a satisfied mechanical sigh. The chaos of the moment melted from his expression. His optics went from fierce eclipses to gently glowing stars.

"...lying safe with you, I'm born...again..." the final note of the song began in dissonance. Michael Crawford's voice slipped down a half step, turning the clashing tones into harmony that faded gently away.

They held their position for ages. Mikaela could hear Optimus' eyelids whirring in slow blinks and felt his fingers stroking her hair. She didn't speak because there was nothing to say that hadn't already been said through their bodies. So she turned her head to look at him. He smiled at her with the sun shining on his cheek and all his love for her sparkled in his eyes.

In one smooth motion Optimus shifted to rest on his side, his form a shield between her and the doors leading outside. Mikaela laid her head against his chest and listened to the mechanical noises of his body. His eyelids clicking, the hiss of working intakes, his joints occasionally clanking and the zap-zap noises from his Spark chamber. He seemed quite content to let her lay there as long as she wanted.

"I think Elita is annoyed with our behavior," he mused.

Mikaela had to pause to feel the little pokes. They were still so small that she often mistook it for gas until those little feet jabbed her ticklish side. "Probably felt like an earthquake to her."

Optimus chuckled in her ear. He cradled her hand gently on his palm and she scooted up to rest her head just beneath his chin. It felt so nice to be held. Then Optimus shifted his arm and pain tore at her scalp.

"Ow! Ah! Hey!"

"Sorry! Mikaela, your hair seems to be caught on my thumb."

"I guessed that. Ouch. Uh..." She reached back to find a good sized chunk of her hair wrapped around the space in his thumb joint. Of all the annoying, awkward things to happen right now...

Biting her lip against the pain, she tugged, wiggled and pulled until he finally lifted his hand free of the giant knot now floating around in her dark locks. Scraggly strands clung to his thumb and she spent another five minutes picking those off.

"If you wanted to clone me, you could've asked," she kidded.

"I'm surprised that doesn't happen more often," he said back.

"Luck, I guess." Mikaela brushed the hair strands off the tarp and settled back down against his chest. "Bet you guys have it worse. All that armor plating...something's bound to catch."

Optimus' optics flared brilliant blue. Then his eyelids snapped shut, a smile split his face and he let out the robotic equivalent of a belly laugh. Because he lacked lungs, the laughter didn't come in bursts, rather, it was one long, continuous sound. He laughed for almost a minute before he pulled his voice together enough to say-- "It is an exceedingly awkward situation, but amusing to remember years later." --before his amusement once again took over.

Mikaela grinned and basked in the sound of his laugh. She was so relaxed that she closed her eyes for just a minute...

...and found herself waking up almost three hours later to a large, folded blanket draped over her body. Optimus was lying beside her, his optics dark and closed. He had one arm curled under his head and his other hand rested loosely on her hip. Faint rattling noises identical to a cat's purring told her he'd slipped into recharge not too long ago. He smiled for her even in his sleep.

Optimus looked so peaceful that Mikaela was compelled to unfold the blanket and drape the other half over his slumbering form. Then she mirrored his pose and contentedly watched over him the way he did for her. Her eyes drifted over the symbols engraved in his left cheek and then up to his ear finials. The sunlight caught in them and its brightness made her head ache. She blinked to ease the pain, but it increased instead as the glowing gold outlines of the glyphs fell through her mind like the green numbers in The Matrix.

With her eyes still closed, Mikaela touched each marking on Optimus' left cheek and somehow knew they were the names of the Primes who gave their lives to protect the Matrix of Leadership from the Fallen. A face flickered through her mind to match each symbol. She heard their names ringing in her head as digital chirps and clicks.

"Mikaela?" Optimus' voice sounded far away.

"P-Prima...Vector...Nexus..." Mikaela heard herself saying, "Liege--"

"Mikaela!"

The ringing in her head stopped and she snapped her eyes open to find Optimus leaning over her. He'd put his chest plates back on--or rematerialized them onto his hologram--and he was frowning at her.

"Optimus," Mikaela gasped.

"How do you know those names?"

"I-I don't know..." Mikaela hugged herself when she realized she was still naked. "My head started to ring and I just knew what the marks on your cheek meant." She swallowed, her dry throat stinging. "We both got off pretty hard. M-maybe something from you ended up in me?"

"That would be highly unusual." Optimus grabbed the blanket from earlier and draped it around her just as Ratchet and Ironhide came inside. "Tell me immediately if it happens again. This may be an issue Ratchet needs to examine."

Mikaela nodded and got up, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. She padded into the bathroom and shut the door. Taking a shower sounded good right then. Much better than pondering the voices and images she'd seen in her head.
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